The Ramingo’s Porch – Two Poems By Brian Rihlmann


Ramingo Unknown Author's Immage


my heart
has grown old
it seems sudden
but it has crept up
I see that now

for it is Friday night
and there is nothing
out there for me
not in the streets
or the bars downtown

not at concerts
or shopping malls
or the movie theatres

people swarm these places tonight
and it is nothing to me
the hole in a zero

they meet on first dates
flirt and drink
and fuck in hotel rooms
and it is nothing

sometimes they fall in love
and it is just that—
a fall
on their faces
or into a void
they can’t escape

sometimes a woman
looks at me and smiles
and that is also

I don’t want
the world out there
but the one in here
(tapping my skull)

a carefully cultivated
parallel dimension
a utopia
beyond my fingertips

it is grey
and drizzly
at seven p.m.
and I think
I’ll go to bed
and maybe dream



a pair
we were
a whore
and a drunk

I was barely old enough
for the bars
and you could’ve been
my teen mom

but we had the world
by the shorthairs

from our perch
we shit
on all their heads
and laughed

our eyes saw clearly
their chips
and cracks

and how
they’d stumbled

then, one day
we each turned our gaze
upon the other

and the sun


Brian Rihlmann was born in NJ, and currently lives in Reno, NV. He writes mostly semi autobiographical, confessional free verse. Folk poetry…for folks. He has been published in Constellate Magazine, Poppy Road Review, The Rye Whiskey Review, Cajun Mutt Press, Alien Buddha, Fixator Press, and Ramingo’s Porch.


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